La Java Bleue
by Pouceline de Gresiel
Summary: WW2 1943, Normand village. The French girl Michelle meets an unusual German soldier. Behind the joyful music of the musette, the war between love and national pride is not easy to end. Fem!France x Germany. Rated M for light/medium smut, war and tough subjects.
1. The Beginning

**AN: As I am actually French, mistakes are possible. Don't hesitate to PM me.**

**WW2 1943, Normand village. The French girl Michelle meets an unusual German soldier. The war between love and national pride is not easy to end. Sometimes tears flow by themselves. Female!FranceXGermany.**

**Rated M for WW2 and love.**

"**Nicht weinen" means "do not cry". Hope you'll not cry too much :)**

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><p>March 1943.<p>

Michelle hanged the wet grey-green uniforms on the clothes line with her puny hands damaged by the previous extremely cold winters.

Her father was part of the Résistance and he got caught and shot one year ago, in 1942. Since then, she'd been doing the washing for the Krauts, at the Kommandantur of the little village of Normandy where she lived, to try to earn enough money to feed her twin brother Francis and her.

Their mother –who had always had a weak condition- died of typhus six months ago. So Francis remained her only family.

She didn't like the fact of being obliged to work for the Krauts.

When she or any other pretty French woman was passing by in the street or inside the Kommandantur next to them, the German soldiers were always grinning and making rude comments.

The SS were the worst. Once, one of them had tried, putting his disgusting hands on her bottom and asking for insane things. Fortunately she had been able to escape.

But the ones she hated the most were not Germans. It was the French Milice. A lot of French were way more disgusting than the SS. That made her going really mad. She couldn't accept the fact of Vichy kissing the Nazis' feet, killing French people and killing the country.

She was proud of her father who died for France. She had always wanted to follow him but he had always forbidden her because it was too dangerous and because he wanted his children to be alive. To remain alive at least until the end of the war.

_Poor he_, Michelle thought. _We are in March 1943 and everything is always the same. This war will never end. _

She took back the basket and walked back to the building for mopping the floor in the hallway.

The German invasion started in May 1940. Francis and she were then 17.

Like millions of people, she and her family had taken their stuff and had left their homes for the Free Zone. But the Germans had caught them up and they'd been forced to return to their village.

Suddenly a deep voice with heavy German accent threw her out of her thoughts.

"Is zis yours?"

Michelle raised her blue eyes towards the German soldier that had crouched down close to her.

He was probably aged the same as her, blond, and his steel blue eyes were staring at her. There was something she had never seen before, in this soldier's eyes. There was no cruelty, no judgment. He was not looking at her like all the other Germans she had met. He was not looking at her like if she was a whore.

She looked down to the palm he was holding out. She recognized the barrette of her bun gleaming in his large palm and suddenly noticed that all her waist length dark blond hair was down.

"Thank you."

She took hurriedly her barrette and tried to re-do her bun but something went wrong in her mind and she failed miserably. She sighed and before she tried again, she felt the German's hands on her hands. They were warm and strong.

"Do you vant help?"

Their blue gazes met once again and Michelle let him go behind her and do her hair while standing at a respectable distance.

She felt him winding up her hair with gentleness and making her bun. Michelle felt something moving in her chest and her cheeks blushing at the weird sensation of his strong fingers in her hair.

He planted the barrette in her bun and helped her rising up on her feet. He was tall, and muscular.

Michelle couldn't help but diving again in the transparent blue pool of his eyes. How beautiful color. She noticed he was blushing as well and she watched his timid smile slowly appearing on his lips. And she felt so idiot smiling too.

They were so close they could touch each other.

Then the sound of a slamming door made her coming back to 1943.

"Thank you. She said. I-I guess I- I must go."

The German nodded and let her pass.

"Auf Wiedersehen."

"Adieu." Michelle whispered while stepping out of the building.

While she was walking to her home, the magic souvenir of that moment was maintaining her high.

This German was so kind, so gentle, and so handsome. Michelle wanted to live the moment of him doing her hair again and forever.

She closed her eyes and imagined him taking her in his arms. She could feel the warmth of his chest. She imagined him kissing her. She could even make out the softness and the taste of his lips. She was feeling dizzy suddenly falling in love with this sweet stranger.

Francis and she lived in a small grey house in the center of the village.

Michelle knocked.

"C'est moi!" She yelled before Francis opened the door.

"Dear, what a day!" She let out with a sigh that was deeper than she wanted it to be when she stepped in the tiny corridor and headed for the kitchen.

"Are you okay, Mimi?" Francis asked. "You look bizarre today. What happened?"

Michelle's smile fell suddenly when she reminded that her brother was probably involved into the Résistance.

Since their father died, Francis had hardly told anything to her about what he was doing all day or at night. Michelle knew he was busy working in the fields during the day, but she was wondering if he had some extra activities, like following their father's steps for example. But as she didn't want to put his life at risk at any cost, she had never asked. That was better.

"Oh, nothing." She said while preparing the saucepan for the soup and avoiding his blue gaze. "Nothing special."

Francis -who was a tall and robust guy with long blond hair tied in a short ponytail- kept on staring at her for a while.

"Dommage." Francis lowered is eyes. "I expected to hear something good. Like, for example, the possibility to eat real potatoes, meat, and drink real coffee."

"I would have liked it so much." Michelle sighed while peeling the carrots and the rutabagas.

The dinner was sad and quiet, as always.

The siblings wished each other a good night, embraced each other and went in their respective rooms.

Michelle slumped onto her mattress and stared at the dusty ceiling without really seeing it.

She was wondering what the thing that was hurting the most was. The deep feeling of betrayal towards her family and her country or the fact that she would probably never see her German again.

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><p><strong>AN: Reviews make me happy!<strong>


	2. The Soldier Alfred

**AN: Hello and thank you for reading! One chapter and already 100 hits and 3 comments, this is awesome! ;D Thank you!**

**I just changed the title for "La Java Bleue". Yeah, like the song. For non-francophones, those who have no French grandmother, and those who are born (like me lol) way after 1945, don't worry, you'll know soon and of course I'll always translate the French! ^^**

**I try to update often, but as I am into a period rich in exams, it won't be easy. But I try, I try ;)**

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><p>The next morning, Michelle hurried to go to her work. The hope to see her German soldier again was making her heart painting her young cheeks in pink and stars glittering in the blue waters of her eyes.<p>

She quickly kissed good day to her brother, slammed the door and almost ran straight to the Kommandantur.

She entered in the house, her chest was like exploding.

He was not there.

For a minute, Michelle sighed with sadness but she rapidly found back her hope and her smile reappeared on her face.

That didn't mean he would not show up during the day.

She went upstairs and started to work with the laundry with two of her workmates, Thérèse and Denise.

Though Thérèse and Denise were about her age, they had never been really friends. They were just used to say hello and then work in silence. They'd never been chatty. No one was anyway.

One hour passed. Then another one. And another hour again.

Each time her eyes caught a man in grey-green uniforms Michelle stopped working for the hope of recognizing his face.

But each time, disappointment torn her heart like an old cloth and it was like if the day was suddenly turning into night and all the colors disappearing all around her.

At the end of the day, Michelle's head was like if it had been filled with soapy water.

She was angry with herself. What was the use being so idiot? Would she understand someday that Love just doesn't exist in that world? A French girl in love with a Kraut. The most stupid story ever heard! A shame. Unthinkable. She even didn't know his name. What would her brother think?

As Michelle stepped out of the house, she wished the German soldier had been assigned to another place, far away. It was better like this. To help her forget about him.

Suddenly, she heard a plane motor. It sounded like a bomber. Then she heard sharp orders screamed in German and detonations. Soon, the damaged motor let out its last coughs and the plane crashed with a terrible din.

The villagers all quit their work and their houses to go and see what happened. Michelle followed them.

Normandy was a grave for planes.

Especially for Allies' planes.

"Go back home everyone ! Nothing to see, there!" Germans told in some heavy accented French.

In spite of the Germans' presence, Michelle and the villagers approached next to the shell of the plane.

United States Army Air Forces, this time. A Boeing B-17. An American bomber indeed.

Francis was already working with other men to extirpate the bodies from the plane.

Ten American soldiers. All dead.

Women quickly covered the eyes of the youngest children with their hands and everybody remained silent in the cold spring evening of Upper Normandy.

The villagers added their names to the list of dead Allies shot by the Germans. Americans, British, Canadians, by hundreds. They dug ten tombs and then they called the priest of the village to say a pray before burying the Americans next to all the others. Then everybody went back to their homes.

Michelle turned her back as well but Francis' palm dragged her and made her hiding with him behind the trunks of some trees.

"What are you-

"Sshh !" Francis ordered.

"Wait."

"The last one, on the left." He whispered in her ear when he made sure they were alone.

"He's not dead."

_- Quoi-_

- He's alive." Francis maintained, more serious than ever.

Michelle shivered. Someone had been buried alive. How awful!

"A-are you sure-"

"Come with me. Hurry up."

Francis and Michelle kneeled down and begun digging the tomb where villagers had written _Alfred Jones, unknown – 1943_ with their hands.

At the beginning, the soil was easy because it was fresh but very soon, rain came and made their work way less easy. But Francis refused to give up and screamed to his sister to keep on digging.

The soil was cold, wet and like impossible to dig.

Fortunately, they soon hit the soldier's chest, and they worked even faster to clear the nose and mouth, and then the head.

Alfred was covered with dirt but Michelle could notice he was very young. Younger than her.

"He's breathing !" Francis smiled.

They quickly cleared the arms and the legs and they dragged him out of the hole.

"I take him on my back. Be on the watch." Francis told, managing to haul up the young but tall American on his back.

Michelle walked slowly; making sure no one was around.

Fortunately, they managed to make their way behind their house without being followed.

There was another problem then. They couldn't enter by the front door. There were Krauts everywhere in the main streets. Francis gazed towards the basement's dusty window and then gave a big foot blow into it. The glass easily broke and Francis lay Alfred down on the floor.

"Jump inside, Mimi. And you'll help me for Mr. Jones." He told his sister.

Michelle jumped through the broken window and grabbed Alfred's legs, trying to avoid the pieces of broken glass.

They managed to make the soldier's body slide inside the house and then Francis jumped through the window in turn.

Michelle lightened up a candle and ran to bring some water and a cloth.

They removed the dust off of his face and out of his ears. They washed his hair and Michelle let her brother check his body.

"Mimi ! Mimi, this is a miracle!" Francis shouted joyfully.

"He has no wound ! Nothing!"

And indeed, soldier Alfred Jones was just half covered with dirt, with some scratches, and unconscious.

They carried him upstairs and lay him on Francis' bed.

"You can go to bed, Mimi. I'll sleep on the carpet and I call you when he wakes up."

Michelle nodded and embraced her brother.

"He's so young, Francis. Hope he'll wake up." Michelle murmured anxiously.

"He will. Francis answered. We've saved him. And one day he'll do the same for us, I'm sure. Bonne nuit."

Michelle slipped into her bed and wished that Alfred would wake up soon. She had never seen any American that was actually not dead in all her life. She was looking forward it.

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><p><strong>AN: I must confess that even myself I am wondering about how Francis managed to carry a man that is taller than him. To try to solve this technical issue, I made a young Alfred (probably in his middle-late teens). Would it be enough to solve the problem? I dunno! But the story doesn't tell. It is a mystery lol.<strong>

**I was afraid this story would turn into something highly soppy (and involving French characters, you can guess that it can happen very quickly) and unreadable. But _fortunately_ there is the war and other stuff.**

**And for this chapter I tried my best not suggesting weird stuff about any Fr/US yaoi because it is sometimes difficult to put Francis in a fic lol. (Do not worry, nothing happens between them xD )**

**The idea of the plane crash comes from my grandmother. She is Normand (Upper Normandy, not far from Gisors, but she was only 10 in 1940). She told me once about an American bomber shot down by the Germans and about 8 bodies that the villagers buried. Their families came to bring them back to the US after the end of the war. I got inspired. Merci grand-mère! :)**

**I forgot the disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!**

**Reviews always make me happy and writing faster!**


	3. Parlezmoi d'Amour

When Michelle went out to her work, Alfred was still sleeping. Sleeping but alive at least.

It is only when she went back at home in the evening that he woke up. Francis was not back yet.

Michelle had opened slightly the door of the room and she saw the young Alfred sat on the bed. He was perfectly awake and looking at everything in the room.

"Bonsoir." Michelle said.

Alfred jumped and turned light blue lively eyes towards her.

"Are you okay? Your plane got shot by the Germans and we found you alive."

He widened his eyes, not saying anything.

"We didn't notice any serious wound on you, this is a miracle!"

Alfred was still silent and blinking in front of Michelle.

"You slept all day long. I suppose you're hungry. We do not have a lot to eat but we will feed you. Michelle added. Are you okay? You don't say anything." Michelle put her hands on her hips.

Alfred had an expression of deep confusion on his face. He opened his mouth and that was when Michelle understood what was with him. Alfred didn't understand French.

Michelle shook her head, confused.

"I-I'm sorry… I don't understand English… And I don't speak English…"

After a few awkward moments when Michelle tried to mime what she wanted to say, Francis went back.

When he entered the room and discovered that Alfred was awake, his face lit up and he started to talk with him in English.

Michelle was dumbfounded. She didn't know her brother could speak English perfectly. Then it was clear. Francis was definitely part of the Resistance. How could he have learned English if he was not?

Francis turned towards Michelle.

"He's fine! He said. Let's give him some food!"

While eating his soup, Alfred told them a bit about him.

"It was his first mission in Europe. Francis translated. He's just turned fifteen. Planes are all his life. He wonders what happened to his comrades."

Francis and Michelle shared a long look. _Should we tell him? Shouldn't we? He's only a child._

The twins chose to don't tell the poor Alfred the cruel truth, saying they had no idea.

"Matthew…" Alfred whispered sadly.

The vision of this deep sadness in the eyes of the American teenager shook their hearts. Alfred went upstairs to sleep and Francis and Michelle were like broken.

"Putain de guerre!" Francis stood up before going to bed.

The next day, Francis and Alfred had locked themselves in the basement to talk about subjects Michelle didn't have to know. Resistance stuff and solutions to send back Alfred to his country, Michelle was pretty sure of that.

It was Sunday. Unlike the women living in the Kommandantur, Michelle was not obliged to work on Sundays.

Someone knocked at the door.

Michelle opened and suddenly regretted it when she saw the man in grey-green uniforms in front of her. What if Germans had actually seen them digging up Alfred?

Michelle raised her eyes and all her fears faded away.

She blinked with surprise.

It was _him_. _Her_ German soldier.

And she blamed herself she couldn't say a word.

"Well, err… The tall blond man started hazardously. Bon- bonjour…"

Michelle felt her cheeks getting warm. His wobbly French had something cute. He looked uncomfortable and that made him look even more adorable.

"Ma- mademoitzel… I've made here to… I-I've made here because I vanted to see you again."

Michelle widened her eyes. He dared to meet her gaze but shyly immediately averted his eyes.

"Because… Because you're so… His cheeks were getting redder and redder as he was looking for his words. You are beautiful. Jolie."

Michelle gasped. She grabbed tight the door frame to make sure she was not dreaming.

"I know. That's stupid. I don't even know your name. And anyvay, I am German. How can you love me?"

"Mimi?"

That was Francis' voice. Michelle jumped.

"J'arrive!" She shouted back.

The time was running out. Michelle couldn't let Francis caught her with him.

She hauled herself on the tips of her feet and pressed her lips on his mouth for a quick kiss.

After that, she barely gave herself the time to look at him in the eye before slamming the door.

She laid her back onto the door like if it was to make sure the German soldier wouldn't try to enter.

There was no longer war, no longer sadness, no longer Resistance, no longer Nazis or hatred.  
>All she could do was smiling with a stupid look and huming an old song her mother was used to sing to forget about war.<p>

_Parlez-moi d'amour,_  
><em>Redites-moi des choses tendres.<em>  
><em>Votre beau discours,<em>  
><em>Mon coeur n'est pas las de l'entendre.<em>  
><em>Pourvu que toujours<em>  
><em>Vous répétiez ces mots suprêmes:<em>  
><em>Je vous aime...<em>

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><p><strong>AN: "Putain de guerre" can be translated into "bloody war".<br>For the "Mademoitzel", I meant "Mademoiselle" with German accent ;)  
><strong>"**Jolie" means "pretty".  
><strong>"**J'arrive" means "I'm coming"^^**

**Parlez-moi d'Amour: youtube: /watch?v=rIAQWr34De0&feature=related  
><strong>

**Haha, Francophones, you must now hate me for this song because now you have it in your mind and it cannot escape! lol  
>For non-francophones: sorry I don't teach French XD<br>But I tried to translate^^ (I had a grammar problem with the sentence "parlez-moi d'amour". I didn't find what fit best :s )  
><strong>

_**Talk to me of love,  
>Tell me again some tender things.<br>Your lovely speach,  
>My heart is not tired of hearing it.<br>Let's hope that for ever  
>You would repeat these supreme words:<br>I love you.**_

_**You know well  
>That in fact I don't believe it<br>But meanwhile I want again  
>To listen to these words I love.<br>Your voice with carressing sounds  
>That murmurs them quiveringly<br>Lulls me with its beautiful story  
>And in spite of what my mind says I want to believe it.<strong>_

_**Talk to me of love,  
>Tell me again some tender things.<br>Your lovely speach,  
>My heart is not tired of hearing it.<br>Let's hope that for ever  
>You would repeat these supreme words:<br>I love you.**_

_**It is so sweet,  
>My dear honey, to be a bit foolish.<br>Life is sometimes too bitter  
>If we do not believe in fancies.<br>Sorrow is quickly soothed  
>And is comforted with a kiss.<br>From the heart we heal the wound  
>With a vow that reassure it.<strong>_

_**Talk to me of love,  
>Tell me again some tender things.<br>Your lovely speach,  
>My heart is not tired of hearing it.<br>Let's hope that for ever  
>You would repeat these supreme words:<br>I love you.**_


	4. Adieu

**AN : Hello everyone ! Thank you for reading and thank you for the sweet reviews ! ^^  
>I forgot to say that I don't own Hetalia and none of the songs that are mentioned in this fic.<strong>

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><p><em>Vous savez bien<br>Que dans le fond je n'en crois rien  
>Mais cependant je veux encore<br>Écouter ces mots que j'ado-_

"Mimi ! "

Michelle stopped and ran downstairs. She slowly opened the basement door.

Sat around a small table, there were three men. Francis, Alfred, and a man she had never seen before.

He was blond, probably aged the same as her, smaller than Alfred and Francis, with green piercing eyes that frightened Michelle a little.  
>She could see just below his cap particularly thick eyebrows. And even if he was dressed like a common Frenchman here, she could guess that he was not French.<p>

The way he stood, the way he _looked like_…

Michelle gave her brother a panicked look.

First an American, and now a Brit. Had he have become totally foolish?

"Michelle, this is a spy sent by the British government. Today, we'll call him Jean Martin. He'll help him going back to the United States. France glanced at Alfred, who nodded. Jean, this is my sister Michelle."

The Englishman gave her a smile.

"You sing very well, _mademoiselle Bonnefoy_."

Michelle was petrified.

First of all, he could speak French perfectly, with almost no accent, and the thought of having been seen with the German soldier made her stomach tying up.

Fortunately she managed quickly to hide her fears.

"Merci, _monsieur Martin_."

She answered a bit more sharply than she had expected. She tried a little smile but started to think that last thing was another mistake.  
>She had the impression he could make out all what was happening in her mind.<p>

But instead of asking questions, he suddenly changed his expression and smiled frankly.

"You're welcome! French songs sound beautiful!"

Michelle had no idea if he was sincere or if he was only pretending.

Francis cleared his throat to take back their attention.

"Well, you were saying, Jean, what do you know about the Canadian soldier Matthew Williams? He asked.

- Well, this is weird. I've picked up all the names of the nine other soldiers. The spy said. None of them is named Matthew Williams."

He translated in English for Alfred, and the young American's face lit up. He spoke very quickly and asked like a hundred of questions. The spy shook his head, answered him something and Alfred's face turned very sad again.

"We've not found him. He translated. Alfred says they were actually eleven in the plane.

- We've found only ten bodies in the crash. Francis frowned. I didn't notice any parachute. Maybe he was conscious after the crash and escaped?

- Who knows? Dead or alive, it won't be easy to find him.

- Did you receive my message?"

As an answer, the Englishman showed him his left hand. It was covered with little red wounds.

"Can your stupid birds stop attacking me while giving me messages please?"

Michelle smiled. Pierre number five was in a bad mood these times.

Francis smiled too and laughed.

"I'm so sorry, camarade…

- Anyway, I'll take care of Alfred Jones on his way to the free zone. Once there, he would find a way back to his country."

Alfred stood up. He was ready. The way to the free zone is long and complicated. It is almost impossible to reach it.

Before they left, Francis stood up in turn and put a hand on each men's shoulder.

They turned their gaze towards him. He closed his eyes for a moment and patted on their shoulders.

"Good luck, comrades."

They left by the broken window and disappeared.

Francis remained silent for a moment, and then talked, maybe more to himself than to Michelle.

"I'll look for Matthew Williams. This sadness on such a young face kills me. But I can't promise I'll find him."

Michelle nodded.

Francis looked for Matthew all day.

When the night came, he went back home alone and looking put out.

"I've inspected a quite big part of the forest, and the fields. There is no trace of any Canadian soldier. Hope he's not dead!"

Monday.

Michelle went to work with the hope to see her sweet German.

In the afternoon, indeed, she saw him coming in the hall.

She stopped her work, stood up and smiled widely.

He smiled and walked towards her.

But he got stopped by another German soldier who started talking with him.

This one was albino type, with white hair and red eyes. There was a yellow bird on his shoulder, and most of all, she noticed that the bird was staring at her.

Like if the bird's mind was linked to the albino's, he stopped talking and turned his head towards her. His face was expressionless at first and then a grin appeared on his lips.

Michelle decided to ignore him, pretended she was finished with downstairs and went upstairs.

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><p><strong>AN: Piiieeeeeerrrrrrreeee! :P<strong>

**Here it is! I think I'm finished with introducing all the characters of this fic^^**

**You've guessed well, Jean Martin and Arthur Kirkland are the same person! He just couldn't use his real name…**

**I didn't think I would put Prussia at the beginning but I love our international (and awesome!) Gilbert so much that I just couldn't resist xD**


	5. Spring

**AN: Hello, hello! I'm so sorry I've been so long but as I wanted to capture their relationship as best as possible, I took my time^^ As I've never dated a German guy, I am obliged to… unleash my imagination XD Fortunately, I've friends living in Germany who tell me how Germans flirt and other anecdotes so I can get some inspiration from them. German, French, British, American, Spanish people or else have not the same flirting behavior. Of course, all are good 8D (Haha no, I've not tried with a guy of each country. Only with French, English (I didn't do this on purpose I swear! Lol) and Belgian guys until today for me. Let's be serious for one second everyone, it would be kind of immoral, don't you think? XD )**

**Hope you'll like this new chapter^^ Thanks a lot for reading, reviewing, putting me on favorites and alerts! :)**

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><p>Michelle was about to leave the Kommandantur when she felt a piece of paper in her pocket. Michelle frowned. How could a piece of paper have made its way into her pocket?<br>Anyway she took it and unfolded it. It was a message.  
>And joy started to light up her face while she was reading the black ink words.<p>

_Tomorrow after your work? I'll be here.  
>L.<em>

Michelle couldn't believe it. Was it really her German? He wanted to see her. Looking at the letter at the end of the message, she wondered what his first name was.

She woke up on the next day morning with euphoria that became a feeling of terror as the pale Normand cloudy sky grew darker and darker.

How could she be sure it was really him? Could it be actually a trap for maybe the empty tomb of Alfred and the facts about her brother had been maybe discovered so Germans wanted to question her and torture her?

But her fears all faded when she saw him approaching. He was alone, and apparently did not want to do her any harm.

"B-bonsoir. He said timidly. I think it would be better for us to go outside."

Michelle nodded, half surprised and half disappointed by his words' coldness. However, she followed him outside. He stopped near a tree in a field and stood in front of her. Michelle was waiting for a kiss, or for his hands taking her hands but as he kept on standing perfectly rigid without touching her, she started wondering if there was something wrong.

"If they see me with you, they might allocate me in another place. Said he.

- Who? He planted his steel blue eyes into hers, not showing any emotion.

- My superiors.

- Don't you have the right to do all what you want? Michelle asked. You are the masters here.

- No. Simple soldiers don't. We must obey to orders."

Michelle regretted her words. Maybe German soldiers were not like people were saying. Maybe all the good food they were confiscating was actually not for them. Maybe it was also tough to be a German soldier. Especially if on the bottom of the hierarchy.

"I'm so sorry… Michelle said with a broken voice.

- Why? It is my job to ob-…"

Michelle had come against him to hug him. He held on his breath while she was burying her face into his warm and comfy chest.

"My name is Michelle. She turned her happy reddened face towards his, laughed and kissed him on his lips when she saw how red and disoriented he was.

- I'm Ludwig."

This is how their dangerous love story started.

Ludwig had free time only when his superiors were saying so, but they always found time to spend together.

Once, a little after Easter, he joined her with a small basket in his hands.

Michelle came kiss him and stopped. A sweet smell she thought having forgotten was emanating from the basket. She gave a questioned look to Ludwig who was smiling and blushing.

"Do-do not tell me you've brought me sausages.

- Actually yes, I did…" He said with a guilty face while showing her the two sausages in his basket. They-they're cooked just like at my home. Then a nostalgic veil passed in front of his eyes.

- Ludwig…

- Hope you like it. He smiled while they sat on the grass. Michelle took a sausage, thanked him and took a bite.

- How did you get them? She asked.

- Mein bruder and his friends stole some in the storeroom of our base. He's awesome but never cares about the rules. He sighed. Do you like it? He asked while eating his sausage.

- It is the best food I've eaten for years!

- I'm so glad. It would have been better with a glass of beer but we don't have any. He sighed.

- To me it was perfect. She smiled. Then I guess it is my turn to share something with you."

Slowly, Michelle climbed in his lap and ran her fingers on his face and in his hair.

Ludwig blushed at this unexpected initiative.

She closed her eyes and went closer.

"Just let me do…" She whispered in his breath.

When her lips made contact with his, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and she deepened the kiss, taking softly his lower lip between hers.

As she started to suck and lick his lips, she felt him breathing harder and his hands pressing in her back. She shivered. He welcomed her tongue and then her mind got blurred.

Ludwig was not the first boy she had ever kissed that way, but this was the first time she felt it, the real magic of kissing, and she told herself she wouldn't have this with another man.


	6. La Java Bleue

**AN: 897 hits, 11 reviews, 12 faves, 14 alerts! Thank you so much! I'm so happy^^**

**Now, another chapter. Special warning: alcohol, smut (light, still readable), old silly French (is it a pleonasm? lol) songs. (I'm sorry, dear francophones (and maybe others too), you might have those songs stuck in your head for a while after reading and might want to kill me for that xD. But you can make it a great time singing them with your grandmother or grandfather if they are not too young^^)**

**Hope you'll like it ;D**

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><p>Michelle filled the beer mugs, quickly found a way between the dancers and the tables surrounded by tipsy ruddy-faced Germans and some regular customers of the pub, and served them.<p>

This day was the birthday of the dictator, a holiday for all Germans. That was why Lucette, the pub owner, asked her for help, with some money in exchange, because the pub was full and this only one day equaled a six months turnover. That was why Michelle was there on this April evening.

Lucette was a fifty-year-old woman in an extremely good shape for her age. She had been married six times and then she was with a seventeen-year-old boy. But apart from her pitiful love stories, she was an ex-cabaret dancer and singer in Paris, as the old photos of her youth success behind the counter could tell. She couldn't dance anymore but she was used to sing every evening for a dancing time those musette songs that looked like a thin layer of joyful and stupid varnish on the misery of life to Michelle, but people had fun like they could.

Her brother had disappeared, maybe to break a storage room or blow up trains with his Resistance's comrades while Germans were having fun in pubs and brothels, and she had not seen Ludwig for the whole day because he had been hanging around all day with his brother and comrades and couldn't escape. But she didn't want him to enter in this pub. It would hurt her to see him and be obliged to keep staying away from him while other couples were dancing happily.

Unluckily, he entered in the pub, accompanied with the albino guy Ludwig told her he was his brother Gilbert, who looked already half drunk, and other tipsy guys, all probably coming from another pub. There were three pubs in the village.

Ludwig sat with his friends and immediately saw her. He looked surprised to see her working there. Michelle forced herself to avert her gaze and pray another one would go take their order, but all the waiters were busy and soon she resigned to go.

The group was laughing hard while Gilbert was speaking loudly. Michelle didn't understand German but she could guess that it was probably about dirty jokes or other non-genteel sentiments.

"What can I bring you? Michelle asked, trying to avoid Ludwig eyes.

- Hi, beauty! The albino shouted with a rasping voice. You can bring me your butt on my knees, it vill be fine! The other Germans around burst out laughing except Ludwig, who tried a fake laughter, and Michelle sighed and did a fake smile. Come on, girl! I know you like it! I am awesome!

- Five beers please." Ludwig said with a poor smile to apology for his brother's behavior.

Michelle hurried to bring them beer and let out a long sigh. The evening would be long with Ludwig drinking with his friends while Lucette singing _J'attendrai_. The poor Michelle behind the counter poured some calvados in a glass and sipped it in silence, staring at Ludwig and looking elsewhere when he was staring at her. Until the accordion changed the slow melancholic melody of _J'attendrai _into a stirring music that made the couples laughing, dancing faster and Michelle's foot moving on its own.

_C'est la java bleue  
>La java la plus belle<br>Celle qui ensorcelle  
>Quand on la danse les yeux dans les yeux<br>Au rythme joyeux  
>Quand les corps se confondent<br>Comme elle au monde  
>Il n'y en a pas deux<br>C'est la java bleue_

She met Ludwig's eyes but this time didn't avoid them, finished her glass and smiled.

_Il est au bal musette  
>Un air rempli de douceur<br>Qui fait tourner les têtes  
>Qui fait chavirer les cœurs<em>

Ludwig hesitated and then he stood up, and, under the astonished looks of his comrades, he made his way to Michelle and took her hand, standing perfectly straight, serious, and nervous. She put an arm around his neck, he timidly put his other hand on her waist and they started to waltz.

_Quand on la danse à petits pas  
>Serrant celle qu'on aime dans ses bras<br>On lui murmure dans un frisson  
>En écoutant chanter l'accordéon<em>

The most drunken and oldest Germans were laughing hard if they had noticed them, the less drunken and youngest ones were jaw dropping and nudging each other and Gilbert spited out his beer, but Ludwig and Michelle barely noticed them.

_C'est la java bleue  
>La java la plus belle<br>Celle qui ensorcelle  
>Quand on la danse les yeux dans les yeux<br>Au rythme joyeux  
>Quand les corps se confondent<br>Comme elle au monde  
>Il n'y en a pas deux<br>C'est la java bleue_

They ignored the dark looks and the whispered comments from the French from the other side of the pub. They were far away, in a world with no war and no prejudice. A world where they wouldn't have to hide.

_Chérie sous mon étreinte  
>Je veux te serrer plus fort<br>Pour mieux garder l'empreinte  
>Et la chaleur de ton corps<br>Que de promesses, que de serments  
>Qu'on se fait dans la folie d'un moment<br>Car ces serments remplis d'amour  
>On sait que ça ne durera pas toujours<em>

Michelle was sick of those secret rendezvous, with quick little kisses and goodbye. She went closer to him, almost against him. He held her tighter. She wanted something new this night.

_Mais c'est la java bleue  
>La java la plus belle<br>Celle qui ensorcelle  
>Quand on la danse les yeux dans les yeux<br>Au rythme joyeux  
>Quand deux cœurs se confondent<br>Comme elle au monde  
>Il n'y en a pas deux<br>C'est la java bleue_

"Come on. She whispered into his ear. Let's get out of here."

She turned her head towards the service entrance. They made their way among the other dancers and discretely went out, in the coldness of the night.

There was no one in the street except two or three drunkards.

She pulled him by the hand, but he stopped her.

"Where are we going?"

He was standing so straight and suspicious that Michelle laughed.

"Come on!"

She insisted, and eventually he followed her.

Her house was unsafe because of Francis. She couldn't take the risk of being discovered by her brother or Francis' activities being discovered by Ludwig. That is why she chose a hay shed.

The only source of light was the moon through the door opening. She could barely see Ludwig's face, and this was somehow exciting.

She went close to him, and kissed him deeply. He was caressing her hair and her back, and then her hips. She sighed with pleasure. Her mind was spinning a bit, maybe because of alcohol. This was really hot.

She stopped kissing and undid a button of his jacket. And another one. Ludwig stopped her once again.

"Michelle. Are you sure you want to- She kissed him to end his sentence.

- I do. And I don't want to wait until the end of the war. What if we turn eighty and still waiting? Ludwig was still staring at her in the eye. I want it _now_. She whispered softly. Because I love you. And there is only you."

Ludwig hugged her tightly. Michelle was so happy she could almost cry.

They made love slowly, for long, intense.

When they were finished and Ludwig was holding her tight against his muscular naked chest in the straw, a little voice in her head told her she had acted like a fool and that she would pay for it, but her love was then so deep that she convinced herself they would get over it together, get married one day, have kids, get old together until their death.

But the times were tough and unforeseeable.

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><p><strong>AN: I've made a translation of the song. Maybe there are other ones on Internet, but anyway I propose mine^^ Warning: may contain grammatical problems I failed to solve :s<strong>

_**It's the blue java  
>The most beautiful java<br>The one that enchants  
>When we're dancing it eyes into eyes<br>At the joyful rhythm  
>When bodies are merging<br>Like this one in the world  
>There is no other one<br>It's the blue java**_

_**There is in the musette bal  
>An atmosphere filled with gentleness<br>That makes the heads overturn  
>That makes the hearts capsize<br>When we dance it with little steps  
>Holding our beloved in our arms<br>We whisper to her in a shiver  
>While listening the accordion sing<strong>_

_**It's the blue java  
>The most beautiful java<br>The one that enchants  
>When we're dancing it eyes into eyes<br>At a joyful rhythm  
>When bodies are merging<br>Like this one in the world  
>There is no other one<br>It's the blue java**_

_**Sweetheart in my embrace  
>I want to hold you tighter<br>To keep in a better way the print  
>And the warmth of your body<br>So much promises, so much vows  
>That we make in the madness of a moment<br>Because these vows filled with love  
>We know that it won't last forever<strong>_

_**But it's the blue java  
>The most beautiful java<br>The one that enchants  
>When we're dancing it eyes into eyes<br>At a joyful rhythm  
>When two hearts are merging<br>Like this one in the world  
>There is no other one<br>It's the blue java**_

_**Like this one in the world  
>There is no other one<br>It's the blue java**_

**Youtube La Java Bleue : ** **/watch?v=4XoRwFFJ28M&feature=related**

**Youtube J'attendrai (if you don't know the song because it is quite famous lol): /watch?v=Uqvr6igV3Wc&feature=related**

_**J'attendraaaaiiii**__**Le jouuuurrrr et la nuiiiiit…**_** You've recognized it, now ? XD**

**Disclamer : I don't own the songs.**


	7. Force et Courage

**AN : More than 1000 hits now ! Merci beaucoup beaucoup ! Je vous aime tous très fort !:3**

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><p>Michelle walked along the barracks where Ludwig was living.<p>

She could notice a little group of young French ladies giggling like hens while spying bare chested Germans training under the warm August sun.

Definitely, hypocrisy was everywhere. In front of people, those girls would swear that never in their life they would let a German touch them.

She ended up her thoughts when she saw Ludwig walking a few meters behind her on the other side of the street.

Despite her strong desire, she refrained from running and jumping into his arms. But she dared giving him a smile from behind her shoulder and hurried to their shed.

As usual, she welcomed him passionately.

The hands she knew by heart were caressing her with their firm tenderness she loved and even if Ludwig had improved his self confidence a little since their first time, there were still short moments of hesitation in his motions, each one resulting in an explosion of sensations in every corner of her body.

She looked up at him and realized how much he was hot like this, panting and sweating on top of her, his muscular body tensed against her shivering skin.

After this sweet moment, they both fell into the hay trying to get their breath back.

Ludwig straightened his hair back with his hand and blushed for Michelle had taken the initiative of putting his military cap on her head, which was actually the only cloth she had on her.

Burst with energy, she sat close to him and tousled his hair. She laughed for she knew he didn't like mess but this time she noticed an unusual look in his eyes. It was like sadness.

Michelle worryingly cupped his face into her hands.

"What's going on? Tell me."

After a moment of silence, Ludwig took one of her dark blond locks between his fingers and sighed.

"I'm transferred. I must go back to Germany."

The words were hitting her head like gunshots. First she tried to convince herself it wasn't true but Ludwig's blue sincere eyes told her it was. She felt like her world they had started to build was collapsing and she asked the questions like if she wanted to catch the falling pieces.

"Why?

- It's an order.

- When?

- I'm leaving at six this afternoon.

- Why you didn't tell me?

- They've decided this morning.

- But why, oh why? Michelle's eyes got filled with tears. Did they find about us? Is it for that? We should never have seen each other, and maybe- maybe... Her sobs cut her voice and she buried her face into her hands. He encircled her with his arms, trying to comfort her like he could.

- I don't know why. He said. But don't worry. I don't think it will be long. I will be back soon. Within a month or two. No more. Michelle wiped her tears. Ludwig was smiling.

- R-really?

- I hope! Michelle's shining smile was back on her face.

They profited of their last moments together before he straightened his hair back again, got dressed, took back his cap and went away.

Michelle's heart weighed heavily into her chest but she wanted to believe there was still hope they would meet again.

She went back home and the vision of her brother fussing in the house got her out of her thoughts.

She gave him a questioning look but he told her he would explain later.

She waited in silence sat in the kitchen until he came and sat in front of her.

Michelle held on her breath. For once, they were about to have one true talk since 1940.

She could see on Francis' face it was important. He started, looking more serious than ever.

"They want me to go working in Germany."

Michelle closed her eyes. She already knew what he would say next but it was like her ears were refusing to hear it.

"Mimi, I'll never go."

Michelle looked up at him and it hits her how much he had grown up in a year.

He had kept his blond long locks, but the brat who was used to run after chickens and climb on cows had become a man. Handsome, strong, and then giving his life for his country. His determined noble blue eyes were staring her like to punish her for having had fun fornicating with the enemy. She shivered and thought for one second that he had discovered her love affair. Suddenly she felt so dirty and disgusting. So dirty that a simple wash wouldn't be enough.

"I'll hide. With friends."

Michelle knew what was waiting for men like Francis: hiding until they get caught and shot.

She wanted to protest and beg him to stay but she knew it was impossible. She stood up and ran hugging him, tears coming out for the second time of the day.

Why in the world her lover and her brother had to be taken away from her, leaving her alone without family?

"You'll be strong, Mimi, I know it. He put his two hands on her shoulders. She sadly nodded. Don't worry for me. That bloody war will be over soon, the Krauts will go back in their damn country once and for all, there will be celebration in the village for a week and freedom for all and forever! And if I have to die, Mimi, promise me you won't cry. At this instant, Michelle already knew she couldn't promise. Instead, you'll stand proud. Proud of our beloved France! Promets-moi, Mimi."

Michelle perfectly knew she would never deserve to be proud for France. She had not the right.

In the darkness of the night, Francis got on a bicycle with a little bag as only luggage and Michelle waved him a silent farewell from the door frame. He answered by waving his cap and drove away.

Michelle tried hard not to think it was maybe the last she saw her brother alive but the with the oppressive silence of the house she couldn't sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: Oh my, all this is so sad I'm almost crying! :'(<br>For the ones who are surprised by discovering the existence of the French girls' German soldier fantasy, actually this is true and it works xD Let's stop the debate here or it might turn into something bizarre lol.**


	8. Help

**AN: Hi again! Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! Reviews make my day, you know it^^**

**Warning for this chapter: a bit harrowing and terrifying. Hope you'll not freak out too much. Enjoy, anyway ;)**

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><p>She had been so idiot thinking Ludwig would come back. Love makes people turn blind and act so idiot, she thought she had already learned it before.<p>

A month had passed since Ludwig and her brother disappeared. And another month. And another one.

The short Normand summer had turned into autumn, and then winter was coming, threatening and icy.

Michelle tightened her shawl around her. The wood stove didn't work well.

Times had become much tougher without Francis' income, and her work at the Kommandantur didn't pay a lot. There were even a few weeks she didn't get paid for.

She was sat in the kitchen but was not eating. There was no more food. And no more money. She had not eaten anything for two days. She was so hungry she could no longer feel it. Then she didn't want to admit it but she knew she had no choice. That idea disgusted her. She had always been asking to herself how could a woman accept to do that. She had never understood these girls. Then she knew.

She had rejected the decision until this day, disgusted by her own thoughts. But the day had come. She could not escape from it.

She opened the wardrobe in the ancient room of her parents. The little out of fashion black evening dress with black lace panels belonged to her mother at the time she met her father. 1920's and les années folles belonged to another Age, indeed.

She put on the dress. Her mother was smaller than her so it was a bit small for her but she decreed this dress would do.

She went in front of the mirror and took the makeup brush in her shaky hand. She forced herself to stop shaking and started to spread black powder on her eyelids. Then she put a few layers of red lipstick on her mouth and dared looking at the girl in the mirror. Too much makeup had made her so ugly and vulgar that she almost didn't recognize her face. She undid her hair, ruffled it, and quickly left the mirror like to escape from her image.

She hesitated about taking her coat or not, eventually went for a jacket and went outside.

The dark November night was real cold. Michelle shivered. She better had taken the coat.

She tightened her jacket on her arms, rubbed her bare legs one against the other and walked down the street with little uncomfortable steps for she was not used to wear heels. It was a chance there was no snow yet.

Every time she put a foot on the ground, her fears grew thicker in her empty stomach, making her feel like vomiting. Many times she had to refrain from running back to her home, no mind if she came back with nothing.

When she noticed her first customer, she was so terrified that she could feel her blood stop flowing. Ludwig was the first and only one man she had slept with. Her mind refused to think about the idea of other unknown men touching her.

She slowly approached the man, who was smoking a cigarette under a streetlight and recognized the German SS uniforms, with the red armband. Michelle was so petrified of cold and terror she could feel her hair standing up straight on her head. The SS. The masters of torture and fanaticism as she had heard people say.

She prayed God he would not be too cruel with her, and not beat her to death, and went closer under the pale light, thinking about nothing, like if her brain got paralyzed.

She stopped about two meters in front of him and waited, unable to speak and to look at his face.

The man kept on smoking in silence, nonchalantly. For a second Michelle thought he was not interested and was about to walk away when he opened his mouth.

"How much?

His voice was calm and steady. Apparently the man was sober, which was rather a good new. Michelle found herself stupid not having really thought about the price before.

– Cent. One hundred.

– Are you kidding?

Astonished by the reaction, Michelle raised up her eyes to his face and got dumbfounded.

The English spy was standing in front of her with his big eyebrows, a cigarette and SS clothes, looking really angry.

She put a hand on her mouth fallen open to stop a cry getting out. He muttered something Michelle didn't understand, grabbed her arm firmly and she was so weak that she could not stop him bringing her straight back to her house.

He opened the unlocked door and threw her inside like a potato bag.

"Can you tell me what you were about to do, _Miss Bonnefoy?_ He scolded with a probably uncontrolled English accent that would have made Michelle laugh in other circumstances after having shut the door. Do you think it's FINE?

- I-I…

- IT ISN'T! Michelle jumped. He was not very tall for an Englishman and was probably a little younger than her but the SS uniforms made the scene look quite impressive.

- Can- can I explain-

- I am on a special mission here and, THANKS TO YOU, I must interrupt to clear up YOUR problems! He was then more red than Michelle ever thought an Englishman could turn and pointing a finger at her. Michelle wanted to say something but her trembling lips did not allow her. He let out an angry sigh and started to pace up and down the small corridor from the stairs to the front door.

- Bloody hell, what will say your brother if I tell him I caught you walking the streets? Tell me. His green piercing eyes under furrowed big eyebrows were shooting her invisible bullets, but joy lit up her too much made up face.

- F-Francis is alive? The English's eyes got a little sweeter.

- Yes. He's a tough and courageous guy, you know. I can't tell you where he is but he's fine.

- Oh, and what about Alfred? Michelle asked, full of hope, a feeling long time not felt.

- Good old Alfred! The Englishman was then laughing happily. That young imp really gave me a hard time! He was so excited by everything that we got jailed three times! Haha, now he must be back to his home. Despite all he got us into, I'm already missing him. He's a good boy. He smiled. But his cousin Matthew is still nowhere to be found.

- Oh… Michelle sighed sadly.

- Dear... He shared her sigh and suddenly remembered he was hauling her over the coals.

- So? He folded his arms in front of her, tilted up his chin, looking more inquisitive than ever. What do you say for your defense, Miss Bonnefoy? I'm listening.

- I-I need money… She whispered weakly with shame coating her cheeks. Money for food…

His angry scary face turned suddenly so taken aback that it made Michelle think about a soaked raccoon. Sometimes those Brits can make such funny faces.

- Did-didn't he told you? His voice got high-pitched and Michelle widened her eyes.

- Who?

- That STUPID FROG FRANCIS! He tightened his fists. How can a human being be so IDIOT? Michelle could almost see steam clouds escaping from his ears.

- I-I don't underst-

- What about YOU? You never go to your basement? The soaked raccoon face was back and Michelle tried hard not to roar laughing. He sighed again and face palmed.

- Why you Frenchies lack of good sense so much? What have you got in place of your brain? Stewed apples? Camembert? Whatever. Suddenly he looked tired. Follow me. It seems you need a guided tour of your own house. I imagine I know your basement better than you. He said while going downstairs.

The last time Michelle had been in the basement was months ago. Actually, when the soldier Alfred was there, she thought shamefully. That was why she was surprised to see the room like transformed.

There was a mattress on the floor with blankets and a pillow borrowed from Francis' room, two big metallic suitcases and a mysterious mountain covered by a canvas sheet.

"Err... The English looked quite uncomfortable under Michelle's questioning eyes going from the improvised bed to him and from him to the improvised bed. I've only been sleeping here for two days-

- You mean you've invited yourself in my house without showing yourself to me?

- I-I'm really sorry... It is really not me, acting with no manners... And Michelle could see he was really affected and looking ashamed. If I tell you my real name, will you forgive me? Michelle had already forgiven him for it didn't bother her to offer hospitality to a friend of her brother and for the bed was made and the room kept clean but wanted to know his name. He smiled and held out a hand.

- I'm Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."

When they shook their hands, Michelle had to hold her arm up with her other hand. That what made Arthur Kirkland remember she was about falling of starvation.

"Oh dear! Here is the food."

He opened one of the suitcases under her flabbergasted eyes.

"Well, onions, potatoes -yes, real ones-, carrots, cabbages, marrows, turnips... But also... He lowered his voice to a whisper like if they were not alone and held up a small bag with a wide smile. Michelle could not believe her eyes.

- P- pork ribs?

- Absolutely! And... Last but not least...

He took a tiny metallic box and opened it. Michelle's mouth fell open as she immediately recognized the smell that had made her childhood but thought having forgotten.

- No! She cried.

- Yes! Coffee! Real coffee!"

Michelle put back a normal dress, washed her face and tied up her hair and found an Arthur Kirkland in the kitchen -who had swapped his SS costume for normal clothes- trying to peel a potato and sending her a desperate SOS look.

"Leave it to me. Michelle smiled and took the potato and the peeler from his hands.

- Thank you. He sighed with relief.

- I'm the hostess, you're the guest. This is normal."

Michelle peeled a potato, a carrot and a turnip, put them in the pot to boil them in apple cider, added the pork ribs with a knob of butter they had found in the basement. After a few minutes, she put all this in a serving dish and brought it on the table.

Arthur Kirkland widened his eyes while she was serving the meal into their plates.

"Wow! That's amazing! I mean, you're amazing! Cooking so fast... And it smells wonderful!

- Eat it while it is hot, you'll congratulate me after." Said Michelle who was longing for eating all those good things she had not even seen for years.

Indeed, the meal tasted wonderful. Michelle just regretted that Francis wasn't there to eat.

"What is it under the canvas downstairs? She asked while sipping her glass of calvados.

Normandy never lacked of cider and calvados. Germans couldn't stop apples growing on trees, after all.

- Do you want to see?" Arthur Kirkland proposed after having finished his second glass.

Michelle had then a clue about the cause of calvados evaporation those last days.

They went back in the basement and Arthur removed the canvas in a gesture of victory. Michelle put a hand on her mouth.

Oh mon Dieu! There were large boxes full of guns and ammunition, a clandestine radio set; and most of all, plenty of boxes of explosives.

"Two hundreds and fifty-four kilograms! He said proudly. There's enough to blow up the whole village! Fine, isn't it? He smiled widely, his hands on his hips.

Michelle didn't know if it was so fine to hide an Englishman sleeping with two hundred and fifty-four kilograms of dynamite but she nodded silently.

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><p><strong>AN: Oh dearr... I'm so cruel scaring my beloved readers like that... I'm so sorry if you got really frightened. Anyway you can thank our Arthur^^<strong>

"**Oh, Pouceline, why are you making fun of Arthur and English people? It is not kind!" Yeah, yeah, this is not nice, but I just couldn't refrain from that. You know, French people -and myself- are very proud of the ancestral French traditions. And making fun of our dear Anglais is one of them, and older than the beginning of History. And we are happy to perpetuate the tradition. But anyway, dear neighbors, don't you have this tradition of making fun of us frogs? Traditions are precious, mes amis :D**

**For the thing Michelle had cooked, I must say that I've just invented this while writing. Never tried it but sounds not bad ;)**

**Normandy is the country of cows, apples and camembert (cheese made with cow milk and strong-smelling (not the worst one, I know it is hard to believe it) :D )  
><strong>

**Calvados (or Calva, for the drunkards lol) is actually a distillation of cider. The one you find in supermarkets is about 40° of alcohol, which is quite a lot. But the one the Normand peasant makes by himself proposes you for a drink with him can hit 70° xD **

**Be careful, alcohol is dangerous for health. Not everybody has two livers or is called Arthur Kirkland lol.**


	9. Rebellion

**Hey, hi!**

**No, I'm not dead or something^^ I had holidays and I've been mad enough to start another fanfiction while I have already two other ones going on (this time it is a USUK one :p ) that is why I am terribly late :/ **

**Here it is anyway, show must go on! :D Thank you by the way for the 1500 hits! Woooo! That's awesome! I love you all ^^**

**Warning for this chapter: another quite frightening chapter here for the most sensitive readers…**

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><p>Michelle would remember this winter 1943-44 for all her life.<p>

This year again the weather was very cold. What was different was that she had Christmas without family for the first time of her life. There were just Arthur and her.

During the first months he lived in her house, they learned as much as the war could let them say about each other and became friends.

Then came the New Year 1944.

Arthur rose his glass filled with calvados.

"Cheers!

- To the end of war." Michelle said with no real conviction.

Arthur smiled and emptied his glass, and so did Michelle. She was not Normand for nothing.

He was filling their glasses again when they heard someone knocking heavily at the front door.

Michelle held on her breath and glanced at Arthur with panic.

"_Vite! Vite!_"

Arthur disappeared into a cupboard in the kitchen, and Michelle went to open.

It was Gilbert. The albino soldier. Ludwig's brother. He was alone, and Michelle could see he had absorbed a certain amount of alcohol.

He leaned coaxingly against the wall, staring at her with intensity and a smirk on his face.

"_Hallo_, Mimi…"

It was the first time he was talking to her and standing so close. His breath smelt like beer.

"Kesese… You won't let me out in the cold, would you?"

Michelle was absolutely not enchanted to let him in but she gave in with a sigh, wondering why he was there for. If he was there for a drink, he didn't ask her and took one of the two full glasses she had forgotten to hide. But he was probably too drunk to ask her why there were two glasses when she was supposed to be alone.

She waited in silence, hoping he would leave very soon.

"Hehe, I love your alcohol!" He giggled.

"But there is something I've still never tasted in your country I might love even more."

He put the empty glass on the table and let his ruby red eyes looking at her up and down like a gigantic plate of sauerkraut.

Michelle frowned anxiously and took one step back. He burst out laughing.

"Hahaha, why so much pretended shyness, Mimi…"

He approached towards her and she stepped back again until her back hit the kitchen wall, just next to Arthur's cupboard. Gilbert managed to trap her and she lost her courage for a minute. A minute for him to grab her arms and push her against the wall.

"Don't make me laugh! This is not you, stop joking _Mimi._ I know you like it."

The cupboard door slightly protested.

_No, no, Arthur! Please don't do that, or we'll all die. You, Francis, and me._ She begged in silence.

He giggled for she was petrified, undid her hair and pinched her cheek.

"_Jaaa_… I know there is a starving naughty girl under your skin…"

He took her waist into his hands and started caressing her upon her clothes.

"Her skin… So warm… And so soft… He told me."

Michelle's mind was looking for something to grab hold on and her mind had found it. She regained a bit of her composure.

"W-what do you mean, who?"

Gilbert shot her a mocking look. Michelle bit her lip, her heart filled with horror. Actually she already had the answer, and she couldn't admit it could be the truth.

"_Brüder_. Of course. He told me everything."

He paused to enjoy the dark and desperate look Michelle gave him.

"Why looking at me like that, _ma jolie?_ You've got so beautiful eyes. They're not made for that. You are too beautiful. Why does _brüder_ has the right to touch you and not awesome me? Be cool, awesome me will take care of you tonight! You'll never forget it, mein honor!"

He kept on laughing and pushed a leg between hers.

"And brother of yours doesn't know, of course. Or maybe he likes it, his beloved sister being fucked. Too bad for him. There's great business to make with a girl like you. You would both eat meat and drink wine every day."

This was the last words of Gilbert on that night.

Michelle's panic turned into a boiling rage she couldn't control. She gritted her teeth and tightened her fists. No one is allowed to insult Francis in front of her.

Ignoring Germany's authority, she pushed him so violently that he almost fell on the floor. He didn't even have the time to answer that she grasped his collar and dragged him right to the front door. She opened it wide and threw him down the steps with a big kick in the ass. She had just enough self control not to bawl millions of insults and shut the door in Gilbert's… ass.

She locked the door and rested for a minute against the door.

She met the gaze of Arthur who was timidly sticking his head out of the kitchen like if he was afraid to end up like the poor Gilbert.

"I… Let's just hope he's drunk enough not to remember all what has just happen, and won't tell his superiors you've hit him. Or hope he feels ashamed enough not to tell anyone…

- Maple… The French lady neutralized the red eyes Kraut… I feel relieved…"

Michelle almost had an attack and Arthur immediately freeze.

It was an unknown voice, almost a whisper, who had just spoken. In some weird accented French Michelle had never heard.

"W-who's there? Arthur anxiously asked while grabbing something in his pocket. Show yourself, or I'll feel obliged to shot you.

- Oh no! Please don't shot me! I am your friend!

- Show yourself and we'll see if you're my friend or not."

The shadow of a teenager slowly appeared in the stairs. He stepped forward in the light and Arthur and Michelle jaw dropped in shock.

"A-Alfred?!

- How is it possible? You're back to the US! Arthur cried in despair.

- Al is back to the country?! The boy asked incredulously.

- You're not Alfred Jones?

- N-no! He shook his head with tears in his eyes.

- So _who_ are you?

- Soldier Matthew Williams, fighter pilot assistant, US Army Air Forces. I look a bit like Alfred… physically. Actually, my father is from Quebec, that's why I can speak your language...

- Damn it!

- What?

- Where were you? Your cousin thinks you are dead! We've been looking for you since march!

- R-really? I-I fled in the forest nearby after the crash… He started with a shaky voice. But I-I got lost… Then winter started and I was not equipped for cold… I found the house… Your house… And I'm sleeping there… No one noticed me… Please do not shot me… If you don't want me, I can go away… He said sadly while walking towards the front door.

- No! Arthur stopped him. This is fine, you can stay. Michelle nodded in agreement.

- Oh, thank you! You are so kind!"

Michelle found a third glass and they clinked glasses to this New Year without knowing that it would not look like any other for each of them.

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><p><strong>AN: Translations: Vite (French): quick. Ma jolie (French): babybeauty (lit: my pretty (girl)).**


	10. Sweet Unexpectation

**AN: Hello everyone! No I'm not dead, I just had a good pause so I could write you a super chapter^^**

**Warning! This chapter is special and gets quite inappropriate! Go to bed, kids! :D**

**By the way: 2000 hits! THANK YOU SO MUCH PEOPLE I LOVE YOU!**

**You deserve that chapter^^**

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><p>Winter turned into spring, and Michelle never saw Gilbert anymore, apart from when he was passing by with his friends but then he always avoided Michelle. Did he told anyone or did he not, it still remained a mystery.<p>

Life was going on as usual. At first Arthur was concerned about the presence of Matthew because it highly increased the risk of being discovered, but Matthew was so discreet and silent that Arthur eventually agreed that after all he could stay. But Michelle couldn't help but think about the fact that Arthur never asked her for any explanation about what Gilbert had said on the night of New Year's Day. Maybe he already knew everything, but the way he acted just as usual made the hypothesis unclear. She also wondered what Ludwig was becoming. But a voice in her head told her to forget him, for he had probably forgotten her.

Francis told her that Love shows up one day and last forever, because when he's the one, he's the one and not another, no matter you try to fight against it or not. But then she knew it was not true. Love, like all good things, never last forever. And when you notice it, all what it does is hurting you until the pain disappear, healed by the time.

She scrubbed her mother's old cooker with tiredness.

Arthur and Matthew were away for a few weeks working with the Resistance camp. The fact of being alone again made her feeling the need of filling the silence of the house with thoughts that had no answers.

Why did Ludwig tell his brother she was a girl of easy virtue and that he could have her? Why doing that to her? She tried to remember when she could have been mean to him but she didn't find. All she could remember was all the most wonderful moments of all her life. Why did he betray her?

Tears came into her eyes but she urged herself not to cry. That stupid Kraut didn't worth it. It's what Francis would have said.

She took the bucket full of soapy water and headed for the front door. She opened it, stepped outside on the flight of steps and emptied it into the flowers down below. But instead of going straight into the flowers, water splashed on her feet and on a person that was standing there for some strange reason. She jumped back and put her hand on her mouth.

"E-excuse me, I- Oh mon Dieu! "

She dropped the empty bucket and almost fell when she saw a soaked Ludwig trying to wring out his jacket.

"Nein. It's my fault." He said after an awkward silence.

Michelle's chest trembled at the sound of his accented voice that sounded so surreal. When was the last time she heard it? He caught the bucket rolling down the stairs and handed it to her.

"I was standing there, I didn't dare knocking…"

Spring was there but as they were still in march the weather was still cold. Stupid Kraut or not, the man would catch a cold staying outside and wet like that.

She asked him to come in, while looking after herself to act perfectly neutral with him, like if he was a perfect stranger. Even when she helped him getting rid of his wet jacket and trousers, leaving him in undershirts and undershorts only, she did her best not to show any emotion.

"Thank you." He smiled.

She ignored him while hanging his clothes.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, not even looking at him.

Her heart nearly broke when she guessed from his long silence how shocked he was, hearing her icy tone.

"I-I'm on leave for three days. That is why I took the train and came here to see you. He paused.

Michelle was still staring at something invisible through the window. But it seems you don't want to see me as much as I want to see you."

Michelle closed her eyes. He obviously didn't know what his brother tried to do.

"You've spoken." She replied, as sharp as a knife. "You told your brother."

Michelle turned to face him. He sat on a chair and put his face into his palm.

"That was stupid. He had suspected I was having a relationship with a Frenchwoman. He begged me and threatened me to make me speak. I resisted for weeks. Until that stupid beer bet. If he won I would tell him everything and if I did he would interchange our first names on the list of the relocated troops and so he would go to Germany in place of me. Our superiors wouldn't have noticed anything. I had the chance of maybe staying here with you, so I accepted…

- And you lost.

- Ja… Brüder takes his drink better than me, I should have known it.

- He broke here completely drunk on the New Year's night and tried to ask me embarrassing things. Michelle eventually decided to say.

- What?! He had stood up so sudden that the chair nearly fell.

- Do not worry, I neutralized him easily. He was too drunk to realize what was happening to him.

- Brüder… I do not understand. I know he's a bit aggressive, excited and impossible sometimes but he's a good guy… How could have he been capable of that? He shook his head. I will talk with him. He swore. He will give you his apologies."

Michelle nodded. She didn't know what to think then the question about Gilbert had an answer.

Ludwig hesitated for a few seconds and took her hands.

"I'm so sorry. I've been too long. And I guess you have forgotten me and maybe you are with another man. I look stupid with my impossible love."

He freed her hands and walked a few steps away towards his wet drying clothes. Michelle bit guiltily her lip. Ludwig looked even cuter when he was sad. Her mind was ordering her to stay standing there and let him disappear forever, but it seems that it was her heart who was ruling her body and voice.

She ran to him and grabbed his arm.

"Non!" She shouted.

Surprised, he turned to look at her.

"D-don't go away!"

The words had split out of her mouth before she had thought about them and she blushed. She wanted everything but that. He stared at her for a moment, and slowly put his trousers back on the drying rack.

"You really want me to stay? He asked.

- Oui."

Michelle didn't know how long they stood there facing each other in silence. She was realizing how much she had missed him and how terrifyingly strong her love was. All that was unbearable. She couldn't fight any longer so she let herself fall into his arms, to her mind's protest, and started to cry.

He kept silent and put his arms around her, which made her cry louder.

"I-I should not love you, but my heart is always doing it wrong! She cries and hit his chest with her fists in despair, which were not strong enough to hurt Ludwig anyway. Why when I am happy they always come stealing my happiness from me?! Why do they need to hurt people in this world? She paused to calm down a little and wiped her tears. When are you leaving?

- Tomorrow morning.

- So soon! Michelle screamed, horrified. What can we do? What can we do?!

- I don't know.

- I know! I'll go with you to Germany and we'll live a happy life together there!

- Nein, Michelle. He shook his head.

- Why not?!

- I'm not sure this is a good idea. I can't bring you with me.

- What about breaking the rules? Just once! Please! Disobey them and stay with me!

- I won't break the rules and disobey my superiors.

- Why?! They have plenty of other soldiers!

- Because rules are made to be respected. I can't do that.

- Even in the name of love?

Ludwig sighed.

- My job is to obey to my superiors. This is unthinkable to disobey the rules, whatever are my feelings.

Michelle lowered her head in regret. She had not thought for one second about what she was asking him to do.

- E-excuse me. I'm asking you impossible things…

He took her face between his hands.

- That's nothing.

He planted a rough kiss on her forehead.

- I'm sorry I doubted about you." She murmured against his chest before loosing herself again in his clear blue eyes. He softly caressed her hair and smiled.

Hesitating like if it was their very first kiss, their lips softly made contact.

Michelle realized she had never forgotten the taste of his lips. Then filled with the joy to be with her love again, she slipped her fingers into his wet hair and kissed him again and again, each time deeper and hotter.

The pressure of his hands on her hips made her fly back to those sweet and intense moments when he was making love to her and she figured out how much she wanted it again.

In their kiss, she slowly slid her hands under his undershirts to feel his warm and muscular chest against her palms.

He shivered at the touch, she broke the kiss and approached her lips close to his ear.

"Tomorrow morning, you said? It means we've got all the night for us." She whispered, not without blushing.

"Michelle."

Ludwig softly pushed her away, to Michelle's astonishment.

"All that is complicated enough. I don't think this is a good idea." He confessed.

Michelle paused for a while and laughed for he was acting just like their very first time.

"Complicated you say? She smiled. It is as simple as this…"

As to execute her words, she slowly, slowly undid the buttons at the top of her dress.

She enjoyed how Ludwig slowly sat back on the chair, eyes on her and getting redder and redder until she let her dress drop on the floor with a soft sound.

She was more than happy to see that her lacy lingerie was still having its effect on him.

"Oh! But you are blushing, leiber soldat~ But we've already spent many nights together, you remember?"

She let out a soft giggle and sat in his lap with no hesitation and gave him another wet kiss on his lips.

She bended on his ear again.

"Hot, hot nights, weren't they?" She whispered and had the pleasure to feel his shivers while she was speaking. "It felt real good…"

She naughtily bit his ear lobe and sighed with pleasure feeling his strong hands going up and down her thighs.

"Michelle… I-I… Don't you think this is happening way too… _sudden?_ We've just met a few minutes ago after months no see and you… we… Aren't we going too fast?"

Michelle stopped and blinked.

"Too fast?" She laughed. "Too fast you say? What about your hands almost in my panties, my dear captain? Oh, and what about if I check this…"

She drove her hand down between his thighs, as furtive as a fighter, making Ludwig giving up trying to make her calm down.

"Haha, not only me is going too fast it seems." She gave him a wide naughty smile. "So, this is the report: an absence for months, spying an innocent Frenchwoman through the window, pretending not daring knocking, and trying to cool down a longing woman while keeping on touching her." Michelle summed up. "This will cost you a lot, my dear." She smiled wide again. He was redder than ever.

Suddenly, she stood up and grabbed his undershirt.

"Come on. We'll have a good time."

She pulled him hard to make him stand up and drove him out of the kitchen.

"Upstairs." She snapped.

She brought him in her room. She turned towards him with a smile. He was still blushing and waiting. Obedience could be a good thing after all, Michelle told to herself with satisfaction.

She took off his undershirt and his underwear. Oh yes she would do whatever she wanted to do to him.

"Lay on the bed. On the back."

Naturally, Ludwig obeyed.

Michelle grabbed his undershirt on the floor and solidly tied up his hands above his head.

Oh yes. Ludwig looked just gorgeous, naked, tied up and demanding. She could see the desire in his eyes and she liked it. She liked it a lot.

Michelle climbed on him and gently took his face in her hands for hundreds of hot and wet kisses. Then she ran her hands and mouth lower, giving tiny bites on his nipples. Oh, how much she had missed his skin. It was driving her crazy.

She sat up on his legs grabbing his hips tight and bended down, making no doubt of where she was going.

"Oah… Michelle…" He whined in anticipation.

She took him between her lips, giving him all the pleasure he had been missing for months, with all her love and passion. He was her Ludwig of hers. She didn't care about anything else. Now he was there, only for her.

She slid him out of her mouth and watched him. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, he was so arousing.

She took off her panties and bra and eased him inside her.

Oh, the guilty sensation again. It was so wrong. And so good.

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><p><strong>AN: I love reviews! :D<strong>


	11. There is no end

**AN: BONJOURRR! ****=D **

**Oui, oui, je sais, je sais, mes petits chéris adorés. ****I didn't update for an eternity and… and it is not kind. I am so sorry. I'll try to finish that story quick. We're near the end anyway, it was not supposed to be a long one :)**

**Warning about the chapter: PLEASE. The aim of all that is not to start a sterile debate. Who is for and who is against, I DON'T CARE. I won't expose my point of view about this, though I think that whatever is the decision of the person, this person's choice should be respected, for I didn't know in advance what option I would choose myself if the same thing happens to me. Every comment that is debate-oriented about this would be reported for abuse. It would be a pity if I had to delete this story because of sterile debates. I hope you understand. Thank you.**

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><p>Michelle knew this was the end. It <em>had to<em> be the end.

But, in spite of that, she was wrapping him in her arms tighter and tighter, clinging on to the absurdity of their love with no future possible.

She already knew that this time she would never see him again.

Ludwig got dressed and she found her dressing gown.

She noticed with bitterness that he was making his best avoiding looking at her. He was already gone.

"It's time."

It was his only word since he had woken up and she had not dared saying anything.

She opened the door to let him go and disappear forever but could not refrain to stay in the door frame to watch him go away.

He went down the first steps and suddenly ran back and caught her so sudden and so tight that she almost fell. In the long last kiss he gave her, his cap fell on the floor. She was so surprised that she kept her eyes opened so that she noticed that a young boy in the street had watched the scene with horror on his face and was then running away. But at the moment she didn't care.

When he let her, she bent to pick up the cap and gave him back.

He rubbed it and stared at it for a few seconds and eventually put it on Michelle's head.

"It looks nice on you. Keep it." He said.

"No regrets, Michelle." He said again after another of their long silent moments.

"No regrets." She confirmed, and it was true.

"Auf wiedersehen." He slowly turned back and walked away.

"Adieu, Ludwig."

It was weird to her to go back to her previous life, when she was just doing her job and not in love with anyone.

Days, weeks passed. Timid cold spring became warmer, pleasant and full of lovely flowers and butterflies. Summer was for very soon.

Michelle had always loved the month of June. But this day, and this day it was June 4th, she would remember it for all her life.

In spite of the warm weather, she felt sick this day. She had nausea all the morning. Fortunately she didn't had to work because the Kommandantur had told her the previous day that they didn't need her service any longer, but she felt so bad that she didn't even wondered why suddenly they didn't need her anymore.

She thought that going to the little park and sitting on a bench to breathe fresh air for a while would be good for her. And it was this moment that soldier Gilbert Beilschmidt chose to have a talk with her.

"Hallo."

Michelle raised her head and recognized him and considered the albino was not dangerous. He looked even unusual. He was not bearing a great salacious smile like every time she had seen him. He looked rather uncomfortable and anxious.

"Hi."

"Can I sit here?" He asked and looked even scared like if Michelle was going to eat him. Poor Michelle felt so nauseous she couldn't eat anything anyway.

"Yes." She answered, half wondering what Gilbert had to say to her and half busy with her sickness.

He sat in silence, keeping a respectable security distance between each other.

"I wanted to apology. For what happened this winter. Brüder told me the truth. I didn't know… I'm sorry."

Michelle glanced at him. He was staring at his feet, not daring looking at her and that was the first time Michelle thought he looked like his brother.

"I forgive you." She mumbled and felt him relaxing at her words.

"I don't deserve it." He murmured. "Oh, hey, Michelle!"

"What is it?"

Gilbert went closer and went on with a very low voice.

"We have been ordered not to tell any of you French but I'll tell you a secret. Just to you."

Michelle was getting tired. He was her enemy and he was not Ludwig and she had absolutely no confidence in him so why was he telling her a secret concerning Germans?

"They're coming. We all go back to Germany."

What was that? _They?_ Michelle wondered if Gilbert had made a mistake with his French.

"What do you mean?"

"Michelle." He spoke even lower. "You. Are. Free!"

"Free? I-I-I don't understand."

"Wait a second."

Gilbert took a piece of paper from his pocket and started folding it. It was becoming complete nonsense to Michelle.

The piece of paper became a boat.

"Look!"

Gilbert was now playing with the boat on an invisible sea.

"I can also make a plane or two if you want!" Gilbert told her. "Hey! Hey! Michelle! Are you okay?"

Gilbert was now starring at her with worrying red eyes and the image got blurred.

"A doctor! She needs a doctor!" was the last thing she heard before she lost consciousness.

Michelle woke up in the doctor's office in the late afternoon.

"Oh, you're awake! How do you feel?" The doctor smiled kindly. "The Kraut that brought you here was worrying a lot about you. But I told him to go for you needed some rest."

"F-fine, thank you. What was it, doctor?"

"Oh! Nothing! A little drop in blood pressure. Nothing to worry about! And your baby is perfectly safe."

_Baby_. Michelle felt like a brick falling in her belly. _Baby?_ She blinked with horror.

"Hehe, little, little baby, two or three months old I would say!" The doctor laughed joyfully. "Congratulations!" He patted her shoulder.

"But- doctor… I-I- I can't keep it…" Michelle started all too fast.

"What are you saying? You are going to give birth, to make life in this world filled with death and despair! Isn't it amazing?" He asked with passion.

Michelle stood up. What would he tell if she told him the baby's dad was a German soldier? What would people say? She could hide her love. But she couldn't hide a child.

"No, you don't understand. I must go. Good bye."

And she left without giving him time to answer.

The next day morning, Michelle left her home. She knew what must be done. She knew where to go. It was not very far. She had the advice from Lucette, the former cabaret dancer. "Miss Michaud accepts all the girls" she had affirmed.

Michelle arrived in front of an ordinary little house. She knocked and a sixty-year-old thin little woman opened. She didn't even ask what her visit was for and let Michelle in.

"I'll prepare everything. Just wait here." She said after Michelle had given her all her economies.

Then the woman called her to join her in the kitchen.

She had covered the table with old cloth and put a basin and two big knitting needles on a stool.

"Get undress and lay on the table."

Then Michelle started to feel really afraid. Will it hurt a lot? Will she loose a lot of blood? Will it work anyway?

She got undressed and climbed on the table.

The woman put on her glasses and took a needle.

Michelle started to wonder if eventually she really did want that. Of course she had to do it to save herself from the shame. And what would think her brother of his beloved little sister? How Arthur, Matthew and Alfred would react if they learnt that she had an abortion after having been knocked up, while they were all fighting the enemy like any right-minded people was supposed to do, by a Kraut she was in love with?

_A Kraut she was in love with. _

Michelle shivered at the cold contact of the needle.

Yes, she was in love with him, and it was the best moments of all her life. She had never felt this way before. It was… magic…

_It was magic_. And… And what was she doing then? Destroying what had been magic? No, it was not the end of their love. This child was all their love. Destroying the very last glimpse of their love, how could she dare giving herself the right?

"I-I have nothing to do here." She whispered, not noticing she had said it aloud.

"What are you saying?" The thin little woman had stopped and was staring at her, her face expressionless.

"I- I have nothing to do here!" Michelle shouted with joy. She even laughed on the table under the woman's inexpressive eyes.

"I guess you should go." She nodded. "Here's your money back."

She ran out of the little woman's house. Cursing herself about what she had been about to done. She could not kill _their_ baby, oh dear!

She ran to the church, and rushed at the confessional.

Long time she didn't went to confession, but she remembered the words to say.

"Forgive me, Father, for I sinned."

"The Lord is listening, my daughter." The priest answered from the other side.

"It… it started one year ago. I fell in love with a… a German soldier, and now I am… pregnant."

Michelle waited for the priest's answer but no word came. So she chose to continue.

"I last saw him a little more than two months ago, and I discovered my pregnancy yesterday. This morning I went to Miss Michaud's to… Well… To abor-… Well, to save myself from shame, and… I gave up! I kept the baby! I swear- "

"The Lord forgives your sins! In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit!" The priest said hurriedly.

Michelle was surprised as she heard him getting out of the confessional. Father Augustin had been very brief. It was not his type.

But she almost screamed in astonishment when she saw who was facing her.

Michelle could tell that Arthur's face had never been so pale. But seeing him in those priest clothes was completely unexpected and she couldn't remember having laughed harder for all the war time!

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><p><strong>AN: Oh dear, why disguising poor Arthur all the time? Hehe I don't know! <strong>

**I can say now there is only about 3 chapters left before the end of the story! Yeahoo! 8D**


	12. The Proposal

**AN: Hi, people! I am really really sorry I am so late! I was so busy these lasts months that I didn't have the time to write a line! DX The story continues, of course!**

**I loved your comments, THANK YOU! :D**

**Just something about the boat paper story: this is also a true story. The father of my grandmother had been a prisoner in Germany during WW1, that is why he could speak German. And there are one or two Germans that were used to come to his house and talk during WW2. And once, one of them came and tried to tell him that Allies were coming and that the Normandy landings were about to happen. As my great-grandfather didn't understand, he made boats with pieces of paper but my great-grandfather still didn't understand, so he eventually dropped it. It was only after the end of the War that he understood what he meant.**

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><p>Michelle was happy the priest was actually Arthur. She rather him than Father Augustin actually. But she didn't know what to say. She was now looking desperately at Arthur, who was pacing round and round in the church with his gaze on the floor and furrowed eyebrows. Afraid of what he could say, she kept quiet and waited.<p>

"I knew for you and soldier Beilschmidt." He said after two or three minutes of awful silence.

Just as Michelle had guessed, he knew about their affair and even knew Ludwig's name. She would not be surprised if he could tell his regimental number. He was a spy after all. Though, the feeling that he knew all about the secret was uncomfortable, Michelle felt weirdly relieved.

"Did you tell anyone?" She asked and prayed he did not. And fortunately he shook his head. Michelle sighed with relief.

"Where is Father Augustin?

- He's busy with personal things." And Arthur's gaze was enough to tell her that Father Augustin was actually gone to the convent for the day to take care of people hiding there –Jews and Communists- that risked death if being discovered by the Nazis.

Once again, silence invaded the church.

"Arthur-

- I have no right to judge you, Michelle. Arthur replied like if he had read her question in her mind. I think that the best thing to do now is to tell Gilbert Beilschmidt about the baby before it is too late. As the uncle, he has the right to know, as much as Francis."

Arthur was right. But his words made Michelle remember of what Gilbert told her.

"Arthur. I've got something to say to you. But not here."

Back to home –and back to normal clothes again for Arthur-, Michelle told him about what Gilbert said. Arthur listened but didn't seem surprised.

"What does it mean, Arthur? Do you know anything?"

Arthur seemed absorbed into an internal fight to decide what he should tell and what he shouldn't. Eventually he sighed.

"Tonight. Allies will launch an attack on the Normand coasts. They'll try to free the country and end the war by our victory. If Gilbert told you that he and his friends were going back to Germany, it is wrong. They are sent to the counter-attack."

Michelle felt first excited and full of joy but when she acknowledged that the poor Gilbert was destined to be killed by France's rescuers, her blood turned icy with horror. She couldn't control her trembling voice.

"Can't we do something to save his life? She asked.

- Gilbert knows the risks. There's also Alfred involved in the operation. He sighed. This is war, Michelle. This is maybe the end, but it is not over yet. I am sorry. All we can do is… praying."

And indeed, the next morning on the London radio, we heard about the Allied troops fighting on the beaches.

By midday, Gilbert came to say goodbye. If he knew where he was going, he was not showing his fears. He was smiling, as always, even if this smile was a fake one. Each minute was like if it was the last one they were together, but Michelle didn't know how to tell him about his nephew. When he opened the door to go and never come back again, Michelle hugged him tight and told him that there would soon be someone that would have been glad having an uncle like him. He was first shocked, of course, and then so happy that he hugged her again and said "I bet that little one will be as awesome as me! Promise him we will come and see him someday after the war." Michelle wiped her tears, half crying and half laughing. Gilbert patted her on the shoulder and added "I'm the man for promises. I'm awesome, don't ever forget it." Then he went away.

"He'll manage. Arthur told Michelle to comfort her. He's a solid guy.

- What about Alfred? Michelle asked.

- He's young, and foolish sometimes, but he's an excellent pilot and he's never discouraged, even in the worst situations. I believe in him."

Michelle believed in him too, but she could see in Arthur's eyes that their lives were imprisoned by uncertainty, just like Francis, and Matthew, and also himself, and then herself.

Indeed, nothing was easy. Days, weeks went by, and news were not real good. The Allied armies were facing a tough defense, and a lot of new Germans replaced the ones that were gone. Michelle had never seen so much of them in the streets.

By July, Michelle's belly was getting a little bigger each week. She had to make herself larger clothes and some for the baby. Fortunately, she didn't have to go out a lot, so people didn't notice her pregnancy yet.

On one August evening, while she was sewing, she was wondering about how she would hide her belly from the villagers when it will be impossible to hide, and Arthur took a chair next to her. He was not behaving like usual, and Michelle noticed he was somehow anxious.

"I've got to propose you something, Michelle. He started. Tongues will soon start wagging about your baby and your non-married status. I think you're preparing yourself for it. But I don't want you to be in a difficult position. I'll be more than happy if you accept my help, and if you accept to help me by the same way."

Michelle stopped sewing.

"How can I help you? She asked.

- Marry me."

Michelle almost dropped her work in shock.

"_Quoi?_

- Marry me, Michelle. He repeated. Michelle shook her head with a nervous laughter.

- Arthur, you're not serious.

- I am."

Michelle looked at him in the eye and indeed she could see he was perfectly serious and also slightly embarrassed.

"Arthur, your kindness touches me. But if I may ask you, in which way marrying a non-married mother like me can help you?

- I can't tell you yet. He answered, looking at the floor.

- Well, how can I accept this if you don't tell me anything? Michelle cried. I can't believe you're doing this only to save me from disgrace.

- I am afraid of losing your friendship if I tell you now."

Michelle wanted to insist, but seeing how Arthur looked desperate, she didn't.

"Take your time to think on it. He stood up and left the room. I'll wait for your answer, I won't force you."

At first, Michelle could not think about Arthur's proposal. The thought of Arthur making the sacrifice of his life for her was unbearable. He didn't deserve that. Then she thought about his reasons. What could be so terrible that he could want to marry her and refuse to talk about it for the fear of being rejected? Was he terribly ill? Was it because of a problem with his job? What could it be?

Michelle thought and thought again, but all her reflections only brought her to speculations.

Days passed by and she was more and more curious towards Arthur. Would he make a good father? Seeing how he took care of Alfred, Francis, herself, everyone, she was comforted on the subject. But what about being also a husband? Michelle had never thought about it before but then she noticed that Arthur was somehow slightly different from other men. She had never felt embarrassed with him, and he had never looked at her or behaved like ordinary men, or at least had never made it such obvious that she could have felt it. Being married should normally imply love and attraction between the two persons. Was she attracted by Arthur? She liked him a lot, almost like if he was part of the family, of course. But she didn't love him the same way as she had loved Ludwig. And she was not sure Arthur was in love with her or found her attractive. The thought of sleeping together in the same bed for the rest of their lives was quite destabilizing. Did Arthur have thought about this too?

That was on the day when all the Germans left the town that the last reason to not marry Arthur ran away: this time, she knew that Ludwig and Gilbert would never come back. In her grief, she had made her decision.

Arthur was reading a book, sat on the steps under the front door of the house. Now that Germans were gone, he was enjoying being outside and not disguised.

"Hello, Michelle! Nice summer day, isn't it? He smiled, closed his book, and let Michelle sit next to him.

- Yes…"

Michelle was used to see him always inside of a house, and it seemed to her it was the first time she was seeing him outside in the sun. And she admitted his features were rather cute, and that his English behavior brought a little something she could not put words to describe. She could not explain why, but those thoughts gave her the courage she needed.

"Arthur… I've thought about your proposal… And I say yes. If you still want it, I'll marry you.

- Michelle… You're saving my life!" He hugged her tight and kissed her on the cheek. Michelle was quite surprised for such demonstrations of affection were quite rare from him, but seeing him being so happy made her day.

"I promise you'll soon know why I need to marry you. And for the child, I'll be like a father to him. And…"

Arthur was cut by the arrival of a group of children running and shouting.

"They're here! They're here! Come and see!"

"Kids! Arthur yelled. Who's coming?

- Americans and Resistants! They all shouted together.

- There's also English and Canadians! A little voice added.

- Look, they gave me sweets! Said a boy.

- Me too! A little girl cried.

- I'm the one who saw them first! An older boy affirmed.

- Where are they? Arthur asked.

- This way, in the fields!" The boy replied and pointed his finger towards the right direction.

Arthur helped Michelle to stand up and hurried through the half-harvested fields.


End file.
